


Idolised

by oratorio



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 20:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oratorio/pseuds/oratorio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Marian Hawke finds herself trapped in the Deep Roads with Fenris and Anders and they won't stop arguing?  She finds a way to shut them up, of course.  A bit "PWP".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idolised

**Author's Note:**

> As always, all characters and environments belong to Bioware. Sorry for what I've done to them!

Ugh, the Deep Roads were horrible.  All these tunnels, leading nowhere, full of Darkspawn and spiders.  It was cold and dank and it smelled like something had died down here.  Which was undoubtedly the case.  Hawke shivered.

“This had better be worth it, dwarf,” she said, curling a lip in disgust as a blob of grey slime dropped down from the ceiling, missing her head by inches.

“Oh, it will be,” said Bartrand, a sly grin on his features.  “Old Dwarven cities don’t simply vanish, you know.  Fall into ruin, yes, but all the treasures within will still be there.  May just need a bit of digging.”

Varric looked around, frowning.  He knew what his brother said was true, but this place… it just seemed _off_ somehow, not like the Deep Roads he had heard so many tales of. 

Hawke watched her companions carefully.  It seemed to her that she wasn’t the only one who felt uncomfortable and claustrophobic here.  Varric was clearly unhappy, which worried her as it was his expedition.  Maker, if he’d dragged them here under false pretences she swore she would gut him and wear his innards as a necklace.  And Anders was constantly twitchy, using far too much mana summoning comforting balls of light.  As for Fenris, the elf had hardly spoken a word since they had descended into the tunnels.  What was it Varric had called him?  _Broody._ Yes, that fitted.

The quintet walked slowly down into a cavern and emerged into a large room with what looked like some kind of altar in the centre, glowing faintly red.

“What’s this?”  Anders leaned over and picked up a small rust-coloured figurine from the stone tablet.

Varric raised his eyebrows.  “Well, well.  Looks like some kind of carved idol, and if I am not mistaken the mineral is pure lyrium.  The red kind, too – I didn’t even know that stuff still existed.”

“Rare, then?”  Hawke immediately began thinking of the profit they might make from the small statue.

“Very,” Varric said.  “Come on, there must be more of this around here somewhere.”  He threw the carved idol to his brother and started to dig around under a small outcropping of rock.

Hawke was watching Varric and didn’t notice Bartrand backing away, clutching the lyrium idol tightly.  It seemed nobody else did either, as the loud clang of the door shutting surprised everyone.  Evidently the door hadn’t been closed in a while, either, as the violent slam caused the stone to begin rumbling and a large piece of granite began to break away.

“Varric, watch out…”  Hawke shouted, as Fenris attempted to grab the dwarf’s arm.  Too late, as the falling rock caught him a glancing blow across the back of his skull, and he dropped bonelessly to the floor.

Hawke threw her daggers aside carelessly as she ran over to the dwarf who lay prone and unconscious, blood pooling scarlet on the floor beneath his head.  Anders was already on his knees, concentrating hard as his fingers glowed softly with healing magic.  _Maker_ , Hawke thought, _this entire trip has been a disaster.  Why did I ever waste 50 sovereigns on this madness?_

Varric was pale and his lips were turning blue as Anders struggled to force the energies into his body.

“You need to try harder, mage,” Fenris said, shaking his head and pacing back and forth across the broken shards of rock.  Hawke had no idea how he did not cut his feet to shreds.  She had asked him once why he never wore shoes, but he had responded angrily by asking her why she _did,_ which was such a stupid question she had not bothered to continue with the conversation.

Anders swung his head around to glare at Fenris, who pointedly ignored the heated expression in the mage’s eyes.

“I am doing the best I can, _elf_ ,” he said, “and I can guarantee that is about one hundred per cent better than you would be able to do.  So I suggest you keep your mouth shut and let me get on with it.”

“You are wasting time.”  Fenris continued to bait the mage.  Hawke sighed.  Honestly, it was like being a babysitter having these two around.  She usually asked Anders to travel with her as he was a solid healer – better than her sister - and she rather enjoyed his company as long as she avoided talking about templars.  Not to mention he was easy on the eye, tall and honey-blonde with warm amber eyes.  She had to admit that, ever since she had first seen him healing street urchins in his clinic for nothing but thanks, she had been slightly infatuated with the mage. 

As for Fenris, he was the most devastating warrior she had ever seen so it was hard to leave him behind in Hightown, but right now she rued her decision to invite him on this expedition.  Being stuck underground in close proximity was bringing out the worst in both of them, and she would be surprised if they made it out of here in one piece.

“Just be quiet, Fenris, please, and let Anders do what he does best.  You don’t hear him nagging you when you’re fighting.”

Fenris stared at her, lips curling in a sneer.  “You dare to tell me -”

Hawke raised a hand and spoke loudly, cutting the elf off in mid-sentence.  “I am asking you, Fenris.  For the sake of us all, can we just try and get along?”

Fenris narrowed his eyes but quietened, watching Anders hovering over Varric with a concerned look on his face.  The dwarf seemed to inspire friendship in everyone, no matter how prickly.  Hawke sometimes wished she could be more like him instead of – what was it her mother said – Little Miss Attitude Problem.  Still, you didn’t spend a year indentured to a mercenary group and survive if you were the happy-go-lucky type.  Her fiery nature had served her well.

Finally Anders wiped his hands on his robes and stood up.  “He will live, but my spells will take time to knit his skull together again fully.  I have put him into a magic-induced sleep state, which he will remain in for the next twelve hours.  By the time he wakes, he should be fully healed.”

“Twelve hours!”  Fenris and Hawke exclaimed simultaneously.

“There is nothing more I can do.  To wake him sooner would risk permanent damage to his brain.  We will need to sit and wait.”  Anders was using that tone of voice again, the one that brooked no argument. 

Hawke nodded.  “Then we wait.”

 

* * *

 

A stony silence had descended over them, as uncomfortable as a blanket made of felandaris.  Hawke was feeling tense and fractious.  Fenris was sulking and huffing to himself as he broke apart pieces of rock using only his hands.  Anders sat with his back against the altar, eyes closed, looking as relaxed as she had ever seen him.  How could he do that?  She was climbing the walls with boredom and frustration.

“We should play a game,” she said finally, cracking under the stress of sitting and doing absolutely nothing.

Fenris snorted.  “Unless it’s Wicked Grace, and for coin, I am not interested.  And as far as I know we have neither cards nor coin.”

“Well, what about truth or dare?”  Hawke grinned mischievously, knowing the reaction she would get from the elf.  He did not disappoint.

“Pfaugh!  Silly childish games.  I should have expected as much from you.”

Anders smiled lazily.  “Besides which, it’s hardly as if we can do dares stuck in this poky little room,” he said.

“I am not doing _dares_ anywhere,” Fenris said, crossly, “I am not a fool.”

“Maybe not - but you are boring, and _terrible_ company,” the mage said.  “I don’t know why Hawke puts up with you.”

“Because I can tear out a man’s heart with my bare hands.  I would be more than happy to provide another demonstration.”  The elf glowered at Anders, looking for all the world as if he were trying to strike him dead without even touching him.

“And such little self-control.  You’re more like a wild dog than a person.”

“You should not talk of self-control, _abomination._ ”

Hawke clapped her hands.  “Boys, boys.  This is getting ridiculous.  I think you should kiss and make up.  I _dare_ you.”

Fenris turned to look at Hawke incredulously, his mouth falling open. Anders barked out a laugh, playing along with Hawke’s game.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe that’s not such a bad idea.  You’re pretty handsome, for an elf.  And perhaps all that tension and anger is a cover for your devastating attraction to me.  What do you say, Fenris?”  The mage grinned.

“ _Venhedis._ I would rather kiss the mabari.”

Hawke bit back a snigger at the mental image that had conjured, and thought Fenris was rather lucky she had decided to leave Rory at home.

“I have already said, I am not playing your ridiculous games.  Now, I wish to be left alone.”  Fenris hunched his shoulders and turned away from the others, facing the stone wall.

“You prove my point.  Boring,” Anders said accusingly.  “Hawke, do you wish to play?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be accused of being boring,” she said, shrugging.

“You?  Never!”  Anders smiled at her, making her heart flip in her chest.  “So… truth or dare?”

“You are really doing this?”  Fenris said from the shadows, his voice strained.

“I thought you wanted to be left alone, elf.”  Anders rolled his eyes at Hawke.

“I do.  I just… Nothing.”  Fenris sighed and fell silent once more.

“Truth.”  Hawke sat down next to Anders, looking him in the eye.

“Aha.  Right… have you ever had sex with an elf?”

Fenris coughed loudly.  Hawke and Anders ignored him.

“No, never.  Not yet.”  Hawke glanced over at Fenris, and Anders raised his eyebrows.  “What about you?”

“Hey, wait, I haven’t said truth yet.”

“Fine.  Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Hawke nudged him.  “So, the same question.  Sex with an elf.”

“Yes, I have.  Several, in fact.  Nice lean bodies, long limbs to wrap around you.  Mm, I highly recommend it.”

“You speak of us as if we are one generic group.  We are not!”  Fenris interrupted again, brow knitted in anger.

“You are right, Fenris.  I am sorry,” Anders said.  Fenris looked up, eyes widening at the unexpected apology.  Anders smiled sweetly.  “I most certainly would not recommend sex with you.  I should have made that clearer.”

Fenris came to his feet in one fluid move and crossed the room in long, loping strides.  _Damn,_ Hawke thought, _he’s done it now._ Leaning over, Fenris grabbed Anders’ robes and pulled him up to stand face to face, the elf glowing faintly in his rage.

“Give me one good reason why I should not kill you now,” he spat, fierce and terrifying.

“IT WOULD NOT BE JUSTICE.”

Hawke groaned.  This was all they needed.

“You are an abomination.  You are out of control.  Stopping you would be justice,” Fenris pressed the other man up against the wall, the light from both their skins suffusing the room with a strange underwater ambiance.

“I HAVE A PURPOSE.  YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND.”  Justice was out in full force now, cracks of blue streaking across Anders’ face.

This was not good, Hawke thought.  How was she going to intervene?  She knew if she didn’t then somebody would get hurt, and probably badly.

Before she had time to think it through, she pressed herself between the two men and leaned against Anders, her mouth coming down hard against his, inelegant and rough but effective.

Anders’ eyes widened and his body tensed, not responding to her kiss yet not pulling away.  She kept her lips on his as the topaz fire of Justice withdrew, quietened, his skin returning to its normal hue, his eyes no longer burning with the supernatural fire of the spirit.

“Hawke, what -?”  Anders stuttered, still woozy from the effects of Justice pushing through his consciousness.

Hawke leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “Dare.  I dare you to kiss me again.”

 

* * *

 

Anders’ eyes focused fully on Hawke’s face, suddenly intense.  He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close against his body, and began to kiss her thoroughly.  She sighed as his lips met hers, surprisingly soft and tender, a counterpoint to the roughness of his stubble against her skin.  She had fantasised about kissing him since she had met him, and so far it was everything she had imagined it to be.  His tongue wound around hers, exploring her mouth with a desperate fervour, and the noises he was making… it sounded to Hawke very much as if he wanted to do more than kiss her.  It made her insides twist and she felt her smalls moisten between her thighs.

She arched her body against him, pressed her breasts to his chest and tried to lose herself completely in the feel of his mouth, the taste of his tongue.  Maker, but he was good at this, skilled and passionate.  She had kissed many men through the years – from her first kiss ten years ago with a farm boy in Lothering to that drunken mistake with Meeran when he walked her home from the Hanged Man a few months back – but nobody had set her body on fire like Anders was doing.  She ground herself against his thigh and moaned into his mouth.

Finally Anders broke away and stepped backwards, gripping her arms in his hands and holding her away from him.  He was panting harshly, his pupils dilated.

“We need to stop this or I won’t be able to control myself,” he said, swallowing hard and struggling to catch his breath.

Her head was still spinning after their kisses, and she wasn’t thinking straight.  She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “Who says that isn’t what I want?”

“Hawke, we’re not alone,” Anders said, his voice hoarse and low.

She flinched, had entirely forgotten where they were and who they were with.  Turning her head reluctantly away from the mage, she saw Fenris crouched on the floor, his back pressed against the wall and watching them with wide eyes.  Everything about him was tense, his shoulders stiff and painfully tight, his mouth a thin line, taut and quivering.

Hawke sighed.  She had finally gotten Anders to respond to her advances, and now the grumpy elf would ruin everything.  “Can we pretend he isn’t there?”

Anders huffed.  “I’ve been trying to pretend that for months.  It hasn’t worked yet, I am not sure it will now.”

“There must be something I can do to make you forget about him,” Hawke said, breathing hotly into Anders’ ear.  He shivered.

“Hawke…”  he said, brokenly.  “Are you trying to drive me mad?”

“Is it working?”

His only response was to groan helplessly and bring his mouth against hers once more, melting into a long and ardent embrace.

 

* * *

 

She knew this was it.  Hawke was not going to let him go now.  She did not care what the elf thought, how much he might disapprove.

Her hands stroked along his back, over the mound of his buttocks.  She gripped him tightly and pulled him closer to her, feeling the hardness of his arousal against her hip.  Her fingers tugged at the buckles of his robes, not caring how inelegant she was being, impatient to touch his bare skin.  All the while, her lips meshed with his, tongues entwined, tasting his mouth – all sharp herbs and sour heat.  She had never been so attracted to a man, never felt this knee-trembling desire.  It frightened her and thrilled her all at once.

“Anders,” she said, breathily, “Touch me.”

She didn’t recognise her own voice, and she didn’t recognise the look on Anders’ face as he pinned her up against the wall, fierce and forceful.  His hand was tugging violently at her breeches, tearing them down her thighs, her smalls caught up with them.  The scent of her musk permeated the air, drawing a heated gasp from Anders as he pushed his fingers into her roughly.

“Oh, Maker, Hawke,” he sighed, “you are so wet.”

She wriggled against him, wanting him to stroke her, to touch her everywhere.  Her eyes were unfocused with the pure need that rushed through her and she heard herself repeating his name over and over in harsh whispers.

He moaned low in his throat and let his arms loosen so that she slipped down the wall into a sitting position, bringing him down with her so that they were both on the floor.  Her thighs parted and he gazed upon her, half naked and glistening with her need for him.  He leaned into her, warm breath tickling her thighs, inhaling her scent and smiling as he pushed his mouth against her core.  She bucked and arched, intense pleasure shooting through her as she felt his tongue push into her, begin to circle expertly over her most sensitive places.

Her head fell back, loose muscled and lost in the ecstasy of the moment.  And it was in that moment that her eyes fell upon the elf, still hunched over against the rock.  Hunched over and desperately trying to cover himself, the leather leggings he wore nowhere near loose enough to hide his obvious arousal.

The feel of Anders tongue against her as she looked Fenris in the eye and watched his tortured expressions was, she thought, the most deliciously erotic experience of her life.  She felt heat pooling in her groin as she imagined taking Fenris in her mouth while Anders licked her, imagined the noises that the elf would make as she ran her lips all over his cock.  The mental image this created was enough to make her tense and come with a burst of what almost felt like pain, streaking through her body with a violent shudder.  She cried out, vibrating with her release, intense and powerful.  She watched Fenris bite his lip and close his eyes.

Anders must have noticed where her gaze had fallen, as he propped himself up and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Dare.  I dare you to seduce him.”

She whipped her head around and looked at him in surprise.  She couldn’t lie, she wanted to do just that, very badly.  The idea of involving Fenris in their game was incredibly appealing and arousing.  But she knew that she wanted to finish this with Anders, continue what they had started.  She smiled and whispered something in return.  Anders raised his eyebrows and nodded.

Hawke rolled over and raised her eyes to the elf, who was blinking furiously and grimacing.  She felt the rock sharp beneath her knees and the palms of her hands as she began to crawl slowly over to him, smiling beatifically.

She sat up and pulled her tunic over her head, taking her breastband with it and leaving her naked in front of him, full breasts level with his eyes.  Fenris gasped and looked away, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

“What’s the matter, Fenris?  Not man enough to even look?”  Anders said from behind her, clearly enjoying the other man’s discomfort.

Fenris muttered a few words in Arcanum, his voice husky and rough, before looking over Hawke’s head to meet Anders eye.  “This has nothing to do with me, mage.  Play your silly games all you like, but do not involve me.  I do not want anything to do with this.”

“Ah, but your body says otherwise!”  Anders continued to mock the elf, who was actually blushing and looking more furious by the minute.  Hawke found his desperate anger and unwanted arousal incredibly alluring, and crept warily closer.

“I dare you to move your hands.  Let me see you,” Hawke said, watching him wriggle uncomfortably, his arms folded in front of him, hands covering his groin.

“I am not playing this game, Hawke,”  he said, eyes flashing with an emotion she could not place.  Anger, yes, but there was also lust, she was sure of it.

“Fenris,” she looked him directly in the eye, causing him to still and stare back at her.  “Please.”

He swallowed and looked down at his hands, the half-hidden evidence of his erection pushing against his breeches. Breathing hard and shaking slightly he moved his arms down to his sides, slowly raising his head to meet her gaze.

Hawke smiled softly.  “It’s okay, Fenris.  It’s okay to be turned on.  I like the way you looked at me.”

His mouth opened and closed wordlessly and he looked lost.  She was astonished to see this confident, proud and deadly warrior so out of his depth, so uncertain.  It suddenly made her want to hug him.  She had a feeling that would not go well, so she settled for reaching out a hand and resting it on his ankle.

“You can kiss me.  If you’d like,” she said, her voice gentle.

She heard Anders snort behind her, clearly trying hard not to laugh.  Maker, he’d ruin everything if he didn’t shut up.  She stretched out one leg behind her and kicked him in the thigh.

“Ouch!  Maker, Hawke, what did you do that for?”  Anders was indignant.

“To shut you up, you fool.  Now, I suggest you find something else to do with that mouth of yours.”  Hawke half-turned her head and smiled slyly at the mage, hearing him chuckle softly in response.

When she turned back to Fenris, she was surprised to see he had moved to sit in front of her, eyes glazed and nostrils flaring.  She raised herself up on her hands and knees and parted her lips, tilting her head towards him.  He needed no further invitation, pressing his dry lips to hers, claiming her mouth in a clumsy but enthusiastic kiss.  She allowed him to dominate the kiss for some moments, enjoying the feel of him against her and the fact that this was clearly not something he had had much experience of before.  He was passionate and eager, eyes closed as he moved his mouth against hers, pressing his tongue against her lips in an imitation of what he had seen Anders do earlier.  She opened up to him and then took charge, using her own tongue to show him what to do, how to kiss her with both passion and flair.  He was a quick learner, and she was soon losing herself in the kisses they were sharing, at once tender and fierce.

She heard Anders shuffle behind her, then gasped into Fenris’ mouth as she felt her legs being parted and the mage’s hair tickling her thighs.  She canted her hips as she realised what Anders was doing, and nearly squealed as she felt him drag his tongue along her slit, humming softly as he began to circle her clitoris.  _Maker_.  She felt herself nip at Fenris’ lips in her excitement, pulling his skin between her teeth.  He arched his back and growled.  The sound shot straight through her belly and added to the wonderful feelings Anders was creating between her legs.

She began to pull at Fenris’ breeches, wanting suddenly to see him, to taste him the way Anders was tasting her.  The elf grunted but lifted his body from the floor to allow her to slide the tight leather down his lean thighs.  She caught her breath as she looked at him, the silver-white lines of his lyrium markings flowing across the muscles of his legs, tanned skin soft and hairless, his erection jutting out in front of him and twitching with his need.

He made a strangled sound deep in his throat as she leaned forward and took the tip of his unmarked cock into her mouth.  She slid her moistened lips along his length, hot iron under velvet, feeling him quiver against her tongue.  She could taste his arousal already, mixed with the tang of his sweat, and he was writhing frantically beneath her, alternately pressing back against the rock and pushing up into her mouth.  She placed one hand on his thigh to steady him, to calm his desperate thrusts.  He sounded as if he would come soon, and she had barely started enjoying him.

All the while Anders focused his attention on her centre, his talented tongue caressing her towards her peak as he pushed one finger into her warmth, marvelling at her tight heat.  She wiggled her hips and made a pleading noise around Fenris’ cock, wanting to feel more than a finger.  Amazingly, Anders understood and she felt him shift behind her, felt the fabric of his robes pool on the floor around her knees.  Then he was kneeling behind her, the tip of his swollen cock pressing against her heat.  She keened and he thrust into her in one hard stroke, pushing her body forward on to Fenris, the elf’s cock disappearing further into her mouth.

She steadied herself and pressed back against Anders’ onslaught as he plunged deeply into her, almost withdrew and then pounded into her again.  She felt herself clench around him, feeling him fill her up, as if he touched every part of her.  He gasped her name as she tightened, the wet heat and softness of her surrounding him.  Maker, but it had been a long time since he had joined with a woman, and he had forgotten how wonderful it felt.

She hummed in pleasure, causing Fenris to shudder and pulse in her mouth.  Smiling, she ran her tongue around his shaft and flicked it over the tip as she continued to move her lips up and down his hard length.

Fenris whimpered and  his face crumpled in what could have been pain, if she didn’t know better.  “Hawke, I…”

His voice trailed off as he inhaled sharply and his hips bucked, releasing into her mouth with a cry.  She swallowed, tasting the bitter saltiness of him, and continued to suck gently on his softening cock, lapping up the last of his seed.  His eyes closed and he trembled under her touch, breathing erratically in sobbing gasps.

Behind her, Anders quickened his pace, pushed closer to his own climax by the sight of the elf losing control in Hawke’s mouth.  She still had her lips around Fenris when Anders cried out and pumped his hips, his entire body tautening as he came hard and deep within her.

“Andraste’s sword,” Anders was breathless as he collapsed over her back, sweating and shivering.  “Hawke, Maker, you’re incredible.”

She smiled as her lips left Fenris and she watched the elf scoot backwards, looking down at her with disbelief and awe in his deep green eyes.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Anders,” she said, twisting underneath him to look him in the eye.  “I estimate we have about another ten hours to wait.  Any suggestions on how to fill the time?”

Anders grinned.

 

* * *

 

The time was filled rather well, as was Hawke, in every way she imagined possible.  When she looked back on that day in years to come, which she did often, she would picture Fenris beneath her as she rose above him glistening with sweat, and how he felt when she lowered herself slowly upon his shaft.  She would think about the way he looked naked, all soft skin and pale lines flowing over lithe muscle and tight sinew.  She remembered how he filled her, the friction of his cock sliding deep into her, the noises he made when she clamped around him and the expression on his face when he came, almost agonised in his release.  She recalled the way he had kissed her afterwards, desperate and needy, and the words he had whispered in her ear.  She had always wondered if it had been the first time he had said those words to anyone.

She remembered how Anders had lain beside her and raised her thigh, sliding into her as Fenris lay curled against her back.  She would smile as she thought about how Fenris pushed gently forward, his cock slick with her juices and the seed of both men, filling her from behind as Anders took her.  She would never forget the delectable pain of being stretched wide with the feeling of  the pair of them moving inside her. 

She dreamed of Anders holding her in his arms, kissing her eyelids as she dozed, exhausted by the attentions of two of the most important people in her life.

She would consider how this may have been the last time she had truly seen the real Anders, before Justice’s insidious presence began to tarnish everything she thought she had loved about him.

And then she would smile through her tears as she recalled how Varric had woken and found them all half asleep, limbs and bodies entwined, stark naked and sticky with their exertions.  He had been confused and then delighted, rooting in his pack for something to write on. 

She never had read that story.


End file.
